


Flamme Im Wind

by tearwreck



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27259933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tearwreck/pseuds/tearwreck
Summary: To spy, acquire information and to impress his master, Mairon decides to pass the road of Helcaraxë all by himself... Melkor soon realizes, that he shouldn't have let his beloved leave, but has another way to look after him...Inspired by the song "Flamme Im Wind" by Lacrimosa.
Relationships: Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor & Sauron | Mairon, Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon
Kudos: 37





	Flamme Im Wind

**Author's Note:**

> Since I've finally understood how posting here works, I have decided to post the improved version of a story from earlier this year.   
> I would still like to ask you to please excuse any spelling or grammatical errors, since English is not my first language.   
> And of course, thank you for giving this story a chance. :)  
> — Nov

The sun had sunken beyond the horizon long ago, but yet a tall figure stood in front of the gates of Angband. If you didn't look closely, it would've been nothing more than a mere shadow three star-like, bright spots and a candle. But no, it was a dark lord, known by the name of Melkor... Though "Morgoth Bauglir" was more popular among many, he did not call himself that. Neither did his lieutenant. Standing motionless like a statue for hours and hours, he held a candle with a weak flame in his burned and destroyed hand. He would not even need such a thing as a candle, but the flame was bound to another creature's life ... The only one that had ever been so very dear to him.

Oh he shouldn't have left Mairon's stubborn mind win. He should not have left him alone out there. Those thoughts were haunting his already troubled mind, as he watched the flame of the candle flicker, fighting for gleam and warmth. The Vala knew exactly what this meant. Shivers, which were caused by the huge amount of guilt ran down his spine... That was unusual for the dark lord. Melkor could snap any creature's neck without feeling a thing. He rarely felt pity, guilt or fear at all. Especially not for another living being. Yet, there was one exception. Him and him alone.   
"Oh what have I done? If I only wouldn't have let you go..." He quietly muttered to himself with a more than just grievous tone in his deep voice.

But Mairon had agreed to this. He had wanted this and he had convinced his master that he could do this. Again, because he had wanted to. Because he wanted to prove himself to his dearest Melkor. There were so many better ways to pass the road of Helcaraxë, yet... He chose to walk and walk alone, being convinced that he could do it. But he did not know that the snow would block his powers. Mairon did not know that he would not have any opportunity to travel any faster anymore. But it was too late to turn and choose defeat. He just had to get to Valinor. Cursing the Valar, the lieutenant gritted his teeth. He was naive... So naive.

If he had only taken his crystal ball, so he could call out for help... If only he had not been so foolish... The snow hit Mairon's face with such a speed, that each snowflake felt like a small, icey cold knife, which cut little wounds into his face. Of course there were none, but it felt like it. The Maia gripped his cloak tightly, while trying to breathe normally. Every breath and every step he took felt like a step closer to his end, but yet he heavily tried to struggle against it. This could not be his end. 

The fallen Maia tried to conjure up a flame. It did not work well. All he could manage to do, was a small one — similar to a flame on a candle — and it was immediately blown out by the wind. He tried to shift his shape and that did not work at all. His usually flaming and glowing red hair was full of snow; in fact everything was. That would normally not be a problem, but his entire usually glowing presence was fading away now. The snow was everywhere, even in his eyelashes, so he rapidly blinked, just for the ability to see. 

So his knees gave in and he slowly broke under the weight of his own body, landing in the snow, which was slowly suffocating and annihilating him. There he curled up with a loud sob to at least get some warmth from his own body, but it was too late. So the snow was dancing around the little flame that was Mairon's body, which contained no light, no warmth and no hope in itself anymore. No, he was almost completely defeated by the ice; defeated by the wind and snow, which froze him to the bone and stiffened his limbs. The dark Maia was shaking for he now felt the blood behind his face. It was bitterly cold... He was bitterly cold.

But yet he refused. He refused to give in to the snow and ice. He refused to give up and he refused to choose defeat. With his last strength and a loud sob he arose and sharply inhaled the crisp air. The tears streaming from his eyes immediately froze on his cheeks, the ice biting into his skin, but he could not care any less. Mairon took another deep breath, before he started yelling and howling into the wind out of pure pain and desperation.

"Curse thee! Curse the Valar, curse the cold and curse myself!" he cried, his words being taken away by the wind immediately, before he let out another loud sob. He was out of breath and the cold air physically hurt his lungs, but he continued until his voice was broken.  
"Forgive me!" That was his last howl, before those lungs gave out and he fell over again.   
As he felt his heartbeat getting slower and and slower, while his eyes fluttered shut, he let out another pathetically quiet whimper, as the snow covered him. "Forgive me, my master and beloved. Melkor... Thou cannot hear me, but please forgive me for I have fault failed you." He quietly coughed, finally choosing defeat now.

And so the flame went out, broken and suffocated by the bitter and merciless cold of the road of Helcaraxë. Extinguished by the wind, wiped out by the snow. A last image flickered in front of his inner eye. It was Melkor, smiling at him back in Angband. Not even this memory could give him physical warmth, but he smiled back, before everything went dark for him. But the smile stayed.  
Shall this be the end of Mairon, lieutenant of Angband and beloved of Morgoth Bauglir?

But this was not it. His cries had indeed been heard... Or... Recognized. His master had been worried, since the candle's flame had been annihilated just like his Maia. Despite Mairon not bringing the crystal ball, the dark Lord had other ways to find him... He always had another way. In the last hours he had obviously done everything in his power to do that. He had already sent out some crows to look out for his beloved lieutenant the day before though and they had heard Mairon's loud cries indeed. 

Melkor jumped from his fell beast (Mairon had invented those — utterly useful) into the snow. He should not have let Mairon do this. He should not have let him go. The dark lord looked around. The imprints of the Maia's steps had been filled with snow long ago, but he knew where he was located for he had coordinates and could feel his partner. But calling out was useless. There was a bigger mold in the snow, so he immediately made his way towards it, knowing that it was Mairon. It had to be him. The thing that confused him was, that there was no light — not even a slight glow. This was not good. Not good at all.

When the dark lord kneeled and shoved the snow to the side, he could recognize the black cloak and dug some more until he saw the pale skin and lifted his beloved up into his arms. Mairon's body was usually never cold or even slightly chill, but now it was more than that. His skin could only be properly described with frozen. He drew no breath and all of his light had been extinguished. Melkor's eyes widened and quietly cursed, as he brought the seemingly lifeless body closer to at least try and give him some warmth.   
"No... No no no, this cannot be... Mairon... My little flame..." He whispered into the Maia's hair, waiting for any kind of reaction, even though it was hopeless.

When Melkor felt his heartbeat, he was utterly relieved, though it was weak and weary. Knowing that the Maia did not need to breathe to survive, he rose, holding him. But he also knew how weak and fragile he was in this moment. So he gifted him with a kiss. Within this kiss lay new power, strength and warmth he desperately needed. Healing Mairon was the only good thing he would use his power for. (Though it remains utterly debatable what is good and what is bad at all.)

Holding the unconscious Maia, he climbed back onto his fell beast, giving it the command to return to the fortress. That happened in a matter of an hour in which the dark lord desperately tried to keep his beloved alive in his arms.   
After his arrival he just rushed to the room with the biggest fireplace, snatched a blanket and started taking a big part of Mairon's clothes off, while he already let a fire flicker. When Mairon was in his under- robe only, he stopped, wrapped him in the blanket and put his arms around him from behind as well. So he sat in complete and utter silence with the frozen Maia in his arms. He hadn't even taken most of his own armor off. Only the breastplate and the metal gloves had come off, but he could honestly not care any less in the moment. 

When he had almost lost all hope, he noticed a slight glow coming from Mairon again. So he shuffled closer to the fire and softly rubbed his shoulders and upper arms to gift him with even more warmth. This procedure was also meant to give him a sense of protection. His hair was still pretty damp though. Melkor did not mind that, pressed a kiss to the back of the Maiar's head and just held him, as his hope and spirit rose again. The glowing got stronger and the fallen Valar could even feel that his chest was now finally steadily rising and sinking. The flame — his flame — was alive again. In relief he pulled him even closer, putting his arms around his lover's slim waist.

Suddenly a quiet gasp was heard and the dark Maia's eyes flew open. Awakened from his deep, coma like slumber, Mairon sat there. His mind was filled with utter confusion and wonder and he did not even recognize his surroundings at first. Then the shaking started. Warmth was all that mattered in the moment. He looked to the fire as if he wanted to fully absorb it. But he soon noticed, that there was something — or someone else that gave him the warmth he was craving. Mairon recognized the smell, the black hair, which was almost tangling with his own and the strong arms. When realization hit him, he started trembling even more. But this time it was our of fear.  
"M-master!-"

"Welcome back, my little flame. I have been worried." Melkor whispered into his slightly pointed ear and planted another kiss in Mairon's hair. He then soothingly rubbed his arms and shoulders again. The blanket almost slipped from the dark Maiar's slim body, but his partner pulled it up and tightly wrapped it around him again. He could not risk losing warmth again. He could not risk losing his little flame again. And that was his soft spot. His one and only soft spot. He had never spoken to anyone like this before. He had never treated anyone like this before and that was not going to change. "Rest now."

"Why did you come to save me? I've disappointed you. Why did you come after me, Mel- My Master?" Mairon asked him, not even daring to call him by his name and tried to turn around, but was immediately stopped by Melkor, which left him in complete and utter confusion. 

"Do not move as long as you are not warm enough. I came because I care for you. Why are you not calling me by my real name though? Have I ever hurt you? You have never disappointed me, my most precious and loyal lieutenant. It was my fault after all, for I should not have let you go alone. I should have stopped you, even though you refused my help, little flame." The dark lord soothingly spoke.  
And Mairon just accepted it, for he did not have the power to form another word.  
Thus he curled up in Melkor's arms, who just silently held him and wordlessly smiled. But before he fell back into a deep and healing slumber, he still beheld his beloved whisper something along the lines of: "My little light of life, flame in the wind..."


End file.
